His 24-Hour Wife (The Hawke Brothers 2)

by Rachel Bailey

  Something that looked like a genuine smile flitted across his face. “I’ve been thinking about your offer to cook. I should have been the one offering. I can do tacos—refried beans, guacamole, shredded lettuce, tomatoes, cheese, salsa.”

  He was the one who seemed a little uncomfortable this time, and she smiled indulgently. “Sounds nice.”

  “All the ingredients are in the fridge, so if you’d like, I can make them for dinner tonight. Say, eight o’clock?”

  She froze as she realized that would mean sitting alone with him, sharing a meal in an intimate setting, all while pretending not to be affected by him—a task that was fast becoming harder than pretending to be in love with him for the cameras.

  Then she remembered the new strategy she’d decided on this morning. Spend more time with him, look at him more. Develop immunity.

  Dinner would be her Adam Hawke vaccination.

  She drew in a breath and nodded. “I can’t remember the last time I had a good taco. I’m in.”

  “Eight o’clock, then.”

  “Eight o’clock,” she said and watched him walk away.

  One thing that interested her was that he’d taken a throwaway comment and thought about it. Moreover, he was making an effort to do something.

  There was more to Adam Hawke than she’d even suspected.

  * * *

  Adam answered the security buzzer and let the jeweler through the gates out front. Luckily the man had been able to schedule a visit for the same afternoon. Well, either it was luck or enthusiasm over being the provider of rings for a wedding that was getting media coverage. Either way, Adam appreciated that it would be dealt with so quickly. He was no fan of loose ends.

  He’d let Callie know the jeweler was on his way and she was waiting in the foyer for him.

  “I guess it’s showtime again,” she said with a half-hearted attempt at a smile.

  He dug his hands in his pockets and sought a calm that he didn’t currently feel. “We’re back to a couple in love.”

  There was a small change to her stance, a slight stiffening in her spine, but then she relaxed her shoulders and gave him a more believable smile. Still not a real one—he had memories of those burned into his brain from their time in Vegas.

  “At least we’ve had a little practice this time,” she said brightly.

  “Listen, when he’s here, just choose whatever ring you want.” He said it casually, just wanting them to be on the same page, but as the words left his mouth he realized how unromantic that had sounded. Sure, they were playing roles and she didn’t need romance when no one was looking, but still, didn’t all women dream about moments like this? He gave himself a mental slap. He should be sensitive.

  “Sorry, that sounded very...”

  “Unromantic? Practical?” she queried. He nodded and she chuckled. “Adam, don’t worry about my delicate sensibilities. For better or for worse, we’re in this together. And if we can’t be honest with each other, then who else have we got?”

  “Okay, good.”

  The doorbell chimed and Adam opened it to the jeweler, Daniel Roberts, who was accompanied by a well-built man in a suit carrying a heavy-looking reinforced briefcase.

  Adam stuck out his hand to the first man. “Thanks for coming on short notice, Mr. Roberts.”

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Hawke. Mrs. Hawke. You’re very welcome. Thank you for choosing us.”

  Adam slid an arm around Callie’s waist as he stepped back to allow the men entry. Interesting how natural it felt to hold her against him. They’d been pretending to be a couple for less than a week, yet already it was beginning to feel like second nature. Like she fit him perfectly.

  They all walked into the living room, which now had more people in it in the past twenty-four hours than Adam could remember ever being there before. Once they were settled, the jeweler brought out tray after tray of exquisite rings.

  Callie played her part well by oohing and aahing and looking tickled pink as she modeled various rings for Adam, and he, in turn, smiled indulgently.

  He also spent the time acting like a man besotted, which generally involved sitting on the armrest of the sofa she’d chosen and touching her.

  Even though she’d given him permission to touch her in these situations, he still wanted to respect her boundaries, so he settled on stroking the skin from her shoulder down to her elbow—a fairly innocuous area. It was silky soft beneath his fingers and every stroke made his gut swoop. The scent of her coconut shampoo surrounded him, cocooning him from the rest of the world. Perhaps spending time together in this charade would be more pleasant than he’d anticipated.

  Thankfully, Callie took the lead in choosing the rings, finding a plain gold band for him and offering it up to him for an opinion. He didn’t care, as long as he could stay like this, touching her skin, surrounded by her scent, pretending to be in love with her. In some ways, this was a perfect way to spend a day. He could spend some time enjoying being near her, with the safeguard of them both knowing the limitations of their arrangement. Callie wouldn’t read too much into it, and he wouldn’t get carried away. Control would be maintained.

  She offered a pretty solitaire diamond for approval and he murmured, “It’s perfect,” before dropping a kiss on her temple.

  A delicate pink flush stole up her throat to bloom on her cheeks. He knew it was probably embarrassment, but in the role of besotted new husband, he chose to interpret it as Callie liking his touch. A thought more appealing than it should have been.

  When they’d made love in Vegas, she’d responded to him with no reservation—something that had moved him deeply. Now that they knew each other a little more, would she still be unguarded with him if they made love? Or would that have been lost because of their complicated relationship?

  Of course, the point was moot—she was the last person he should be thinking of sleeping with. If they did, how would he be able to walk away from her a second time? It had been hard enough when they had no ties between them besides a piece of paper. Now? Things were so much trickier.

  And one thing was certain—walking away once this was over was imperative. He didn’t want their fake relationship to become real. At least on that they were in agreement.

  He glanced down at Callie as she tried on wedding rings and a thought hit him with the force of a Mack truck—were they in agreement?

  Callie had wanted to dissolve their marriage, and seemed uncomfortable with their current arrangement...but what if she was secretly hoping this could turn into something more?

  “Very fine choices,” the jeweler was saying. “I can see you have exquisite taste.”

  The man began putting the trays back into the special briefcase, and Adam stood, still reeling over the questions in his mind.

  “Thank you, you’re very kind,” Callie said.

  “Yes, thank you,” Adam echoed. He moved to the side to give Callie room to stand, but this time he didn’t stay close to his wife or touch her. He needed to be certain of what she was thinking before he did that again. Why had they never explicitly discussed it?

  He walked ahead and opened the front door for the visitors.

  The jeweler stuck out his hand. “I’ll give you a call the moment the rings are resized and ready to be picked up.”

  “I appreciate it,” Adam said, shaking his hand.

  The two men left and Adam was once again alone with Callie. It was the perfect opportunity to have an honest conversation about where Callie saw their relationship heading, yet part of him wanted to put it off. If she was hoping it would evolve into something permanent he’d have to lay his position on the line, which would hurt her. Callie was the last person he’d ever want to hurt.

  Then again, if she really did feel that way, the longer he let it go before addressing the issue, the more she
’d be hurt. He had to do it now.

  She turned. “I’ll just head—”

  “Can we talk about something first?”

  “Sure,” she said, turning back and folding her arms under her breasts.

  Now that he’d started, he wasn’t quite sure how to word it. The topic called for finding a balance between clarity and sensitivity.

  He drew in a long breath. “Ah, I just wanted to touch base with you about our situation.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked, her head cocked to the side.

  “We made this plan that day in my office, and since then it seems to have taken on a life of its own.”

  She chuckled. “It has rather become a bit of a monster, hasn’t it?”

  “Do you want to call it off?” he asked, watching her reaction carefully.

  Without hesitation, she shook her head. “I want the partnership. And from Jenna’s figures, it’s helping the trust.” She unfolded her arms and tucked one hand into her back jeans pocket. “Do you want to call it off?”

  “No, I made a commitment and I’ll see it through.” He shifted his weight, wishing he’d found somewhere more comfortable for this conversation. “I also need to check that you’re not hoping for...more.”

  She frowned. “More?”

  “From me,” he said simply. Clearly. No misunderstandings. “From the marriage.”

  She arched one eyebrow. “You think I’ll succumb to your charms and beg you to make the marriage real?”

  Adam flinched. Said like that, it did sound over-the-top. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you. But I have to make sure that we want the same things. That I wasn’t leading you on.”

  “No one could accuse you of leading me on, Adam,” she said drily. “As soon as we’re not in front of people, you drop the act pretty quickly.”

  He felt as if he was missing half the conversation. Was she saying that was a problem? She’d just mocked him for suggesting she might want more, so surely she wanted him to drop the act as soon as he could?

  But before he could find the right question to work out what he was missing, Callie had turned away.

  “I’ll see you at dinner,” she said over her shoulder and walked down the hall.

  “Sure,” he said to her retreating back, and wondered if he’d ever completely understand her.

  Six

  Callie pushed her empty plate away and sighed in satisfaction. “You undersold your cooking abilities.”

  Adam shrugged a broad shoulder. “My repertoire is small. Basically the tacos you just had and scrambled eggs. I have dreams of one day branching out into pizza.”

  Callie laughed—both at the words and from surprise at his easy self-deprecating humor. Adam Hawke liked to stay buttoned up, but she suspected if he ever let his guard down he could be a whole heap of fun.

  No, scratch that. She didn’t suspect it—she knew it. Their time in Vegas had been amazing. On the way to the chapel, they’d laughed and run through a fountain, and on the way back, Adam had insisted on carrying her over the threshold of the hotel, much to the amusement of the security team and everyone else in the foyer.

  “Penny for your thoughts,” he said.

  She glanced up. “You really don’t want to know.”

  “I offered money, and I’m always serious when it comes to money,” he said, a grin dancing at the corners of his mouth.

  Still she hesitated. Should she lie and avoid talking about a time she knew he regretted, or do as he asked? She was never quite sure with Adam. Always second-guessing herself.

  He fished a hand into his pocket and threw a quarter onto the table. It rolled and did a few lazy spins in front of her plate before falling flat.

  She picked up the coin and flipped it over in her fingers, not meeting his gaze as she spoke. “I was thinking about the people we were in Vegas. Would those people even recognize the man and woman sitting at this table?”

  His fingers started tapping on the side of his wineglass, until he looked at them, as if surprised to find them moving without his permission. They abruptly stopped. “You mean me, don’t you? You’re basically the same, if a little more subdued without the alcohol.”

  She dared a glance at his eyes. They were the dark green of a deep, stormy ocean, and they made her heart catch in her chest.

  “I guess I did, yeah.” She took a sip of her wine and then studied him over the rim. “I saw a side of you that you rarely let out to play, didn’t I?”

  His fingers began to tap again, before they once more abruptly stopped. “Do you want to get out of here? I’m going stir-crazy.”

  It was the same phrase he’d used earlier when talking about the possible problems of their living arrangement, but now he was admitting to feeling trapped. It seemed quite a strong admission coming from a man who usually kept his innermost feelings and reactions locked down tight, and part of her was glad he’d shared even this small snippet with her. But that didn’t mean she was going to leap at his suggestion.

  “I know that now that we’ve changed the plan to the wedding becoming our PR strategy we don’t need to be in lockdown anymore. In fact, we’ll probably want to be seen together a couple of times before the ceremony—maybe dinner out or something. But I don’t think I’m up to being that public just yet.”

  “There’s only one guy out in front now,” he said with a dismissive shrug, “and if we go out the back door down to the beach, he won’t know.”

  It seemed too easy after the drama of the past couple of days. “What about other people?”

  “It’s usually pretty deserted at night, but I have some sweats you can borrow to make sure no one recognizes us.”

  The idea of escaping the four walls around them without causing a spectacle was too good to pass up.

  “Let’s go,” she said.

  As she cleared their plates, Adam left and returned a few minutes later in nondescript gray sweatpants and a matching hoodie. He passed a black set to her.

  “You’ll have to roll the legs up, but not too much—you’re so tall that I think I only have a couple of inches on you. The top will swim on your frame, though, sorry.”

  She took the clothes and held them against her chest. Even though they were clean, they smelled of him and she had to fight the impulse to breathe in the scent. “Everything I brought is brightly colored, so I’ll be much less visible in these.” Even if she would be completely surrounded by his scent.

  A few minutes later she’d changed and they were heading down the outdoor stairs that separated his yard from the beach. A gentle breeze blew, and the moonlight sparkled on the inky water. They made it through the soft sand to where the edges of the waves played around their bare feet.

  “I always forget how much I love the beach,” she said, trying to take it all in at once. “I live in LA, but hardly ever take time to enjoy its treasures.”

  Maybe Adam wasn’t the only one who needed to stop and smell the roses. When things returned to normal, she was going to make some changes, starting with regular visits to the beach.

  “I know what you mean. I bought the house for its location, but...” His voice trailed off.

  “But you’re at work most of the time,” she said.

  He let out a short laugh. “Something like that. Do you want to walk?”

  “Sure.”

  For a couple of minutes, they walked in silence until she broke it by saying, “Look, I’m sorry for what I said back at the house. How you live your life is none of my business.”

  “If it’s anyone’s business,” he said with humor in his gaze, “it would be my wife’s.”

  She sighed and splashed at the water with her toes. “I guess that’s the problem. We’ve crossed lines back and forth so many times that we’re going to wind up making mistakes ab
out where they are now.”

  Silence descended around them once more, but it was far from comfortable. There was tension in it beyond what had been between them the past couple of days, and it was all coming from Adam. There was clearly something on his mind, so she waited, hoping he’d start talking.

  “I saw you looking at the family photos along the wall in the dining room while I was fixing dinner,” he finally said.

  She stole a quick glance at him, unsure if he was annoyed, but he seemed not to have a problem with it. So she nodded. “You have a very photogenic family.”

  He seemed to ignore the compliment. “Did you see the older man who was in lots of the photos where we were children?”

  She had noticed him. Tall, with striking looks and silver hair. “You look a lot like him.”

  “My grandfather, Adam Hawke.” He said the words without inflection. Without emotion. “I was named after him, and people often told me that I was like him.”

  “Looked like him?” she asked, sensing there was more to this.

  “Looks and personality. I was always fairly serious and responsible, which probably isn’t too unusual for an oldest sibling, but it was more than that.”

  “Your grandfather was serious and responsible, too?” she asked gently, unsure how far to push.

  “All his life.” He folded his arms over his chest as he walked. “Right up until his second marriage.” His expression turned bitter.

  “I take it you didn’t like his new wife.”

  “She didn’t like me, or any children. But my grandfather couldn’t see that. We’d always been close—when my parents had two more babies, he was the one who babysat me. He taught me to ride a bike.” Adam looked up at the starry sky before letting out a humorless laugh. “He used to tell me all the time that my father would inherit the farm from him, and one day it would all come to me.”

  She’d known this wasn’t going to be a happy story from the start, but a feeling of foreboding was growing in her belly.

  “What happened to the farm, Adam?” she asked.